The Hero VS El Bribón Lujurioso
by Mr. Nohbodee
Summary: A continuation of Alfred F. Jones- Superhero. The Hero must take on a new band of bad guys, The Bad Touch Trio! US/UK, Spamano Franada implied  GerIta   M for lemons and language
1. Chapter 1

Welcome back my kiddies! You voted! And in the one day it's been up, more than I think a little less than 99% of you said you wanted the sequel. SO HERE IT IS MY CHILI PEPPERS! (I think I might just call you all that from now on.)

Summary: Alfred pisses off Antonio causing him to fall into desperate measures. He must become…. El Bribón Lujurioso! And he has help! Along side Der Mann and Le Roi d'Amour (And a very unhappy Little Tomato), Antonio intends to end Alfred's life once and for all. But Alfred isn't alone. He is joined by his own Lois Lane, Arthur Kirkland, to end Antonio's reign of terror once and for all.

**Author bit:**

Howdy! This is the SUPER SHORT INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER! And it really gets things going. So enjoy, my little chili peppers!

And much like the last story, THIS IS ENDLESSLY NOT SERIOUS.

**Warning**_**:**_ This story contains lots of strong language. Like FUCK and SHIT! It also has sex between two dudes in it. Also, it has the use of Google Translate for Spanish, French, and Italian. BEWARE.

**Disclaimer**: Is not mine.

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><p>"Yes…. I will accept the charges… Thank you." Lovino and Gilbert watched expectantly as Antonio placed his call. Though, Lovino's expectations were not too high. Knowing Antonio it was something lame. He was calling to get the new gardening thing he saw on T.V., he was calling a friend to say 'hi,' but making a huge deal of it.<p>

"Hola! Mi amigo! Francis, how are you?" A wide smile broke onto Gilbert's face. Lovi was, once again, underwhelmed. "So, that whole Jack Union thing didn't exactly work out and… Yeah that would be no problem! Absolutely, my friend! How soon? Wonderful! I will see you then!" He hung up, overjoyed.

Gilbert rocked in his seat, "So, what is going on with Francis?" He asked.

The smile on Antonio's lips was far from sweet. It was devious, vengeful, angry, "Well, first I have to go speak to a certain Hungarian woman about a certain Englishman. Then Francis gets Arthur's old position and he can come and help us!" His smile was back to cheerful. Something about the change in moods… frightened Lovino.

Antonio picked up the phone again and dialed a number, "Hello, may I speak to Ms. Héderváry right away. It is very important… Thank you." He noticed the Italian's sour expression and blew a little kiss to him. He glared in response. "Yes! Hello! I am here to conduct a survey on the behavior of employees in the workplace. Tell me, how is your best employee doing right now?... uh-huh, and are you satisfied with the work that he or she has been putting out? I see, do you feel that this employee is valuable to your company? Oh, I am very sorry to hear that. Just one more, is this employee worth the money that he or she is getting paid? No, that is all. Thank you for your time, Ms. Héderváry." Disgustingly devious, Lovino figured. That is what Antonio was being. Disgustingly devious.

* * *

><p>"'Ello?" Arthur asked into his mobile. Alfred was still in bed, so he brought it upon himself to make them both breakfast, despite the soreness in his ass. He thought it would turn out something like bacon and eggs, but so far it looked like burnt white stuff and yolk in a pan. He turned off the stove and walked into the other room.<p>

"Mr. Kirkland, this is Ms. Héderváry."

"I-uh, yes, is there something wrong?" He asked, growing nervous. He still hadn't done much of the work he was assigned and a call from Ms. Héderváry usually meant bad news.

He heard her click her tongue, "Mr. Kirkland, it has occurred to me that in the past month you have gone from our top employee to doing less work than Mr. Vargas. You do understand that this is far below satisfactory." Feliciano Vargas was the laziest person on the planet. All he wanted to do was sit around and make food or draw. He never did any work and any time somebody would scold him, he would run away as if it were a fist fight he couldn't handle.

Arthur flinched, that was a strong insult, "I- I apologize, Ms. Héderváry, things have been very hectic and—"

"I don't want your excuses. Mr. Kirkland, you were a valuable member of the team, but you have slacked and I have no choice but to give your position to Francis Bonnefoy. "

There was a long pause. _Francis Bonnefoy?_ He wanted to scream, he wanted to cuss out that deranged woman and break the phone and punch something. Why the hell would she give _his _job to bloody _Francis Bonnefoy!_

" Ms. Héderváry, a-are you sure that is wise?" He ignored the fact that his voice cracked.

The Hungarian woman sighed, "Arthur, you were doing so well back in England, but as soon as you showed up here, things went downhill. Fast." Her tone went from serious to almost regretful, " I was so excited to have you be working under me, but you greatly disappointed, not only me, but all of F.A.G. And that is why we are letting Francis take your position."

And this brought him right back to his very first problem. Doddamn Moonbucks. If Moonbucks had not taken over his mother's café, he never would have created Jack Union and he never would have lost his position.

"So this is a demotion." Arthur said, solemn.

His boss sighed, "Arthur, I think it might be good for you if you took a vacation before you came back to work. Maybe go back to England and get settled in again." She said.

"So I'm fired?" Arthur spat, angered.

"No, no! Not fired, just take a paid vacation and come back to work in… two, three weeks. Once you come back into the office we will have all the information regarding your new position."

He paused again, his hands trembling. He really, really hated this all. He did have half the mind to go back to the office right then and show them the marvels he created as Jack Union. He'd like to see Francis Bonnefoy create a ten foot tall pigeon. Which made him think, what the hell was he going to do with his giant pets? It's not like he could just let them go, or anything. And now that he lost his position, he also lost full access to the basement…

"Arthur? You still there?"

"Huh—Oh, yes, sorry. I will come back to work in two weeks, then." He said quickly. "Thank you, Ms. Héderváry." He hung up without letting her say her goodbyes.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to punch a few walls and let his pigeon go and eat the face off of that prissy Frenchman. How _could _they do that to him! He was a fucking _prodigy!_ Angry tears fell down his cheeks as he scrapped the scraps of burnt eggs into the garbage.

"What's burning….?" Alfred walked in clad only in cotton boxers, yawning. He noticed that Arthur was upset and immediately went over to console him. "Hey, are you alright? What happened?" He asked, reaching for Arthur's wrist.

Arthur swatted it away, still pissed, and not wanting any comfort. "Bloody Francis Bonnefoy took my job from me, the bastard." He mumbled, whipping his face angrily.

There was a pause. Francis Bonnefoy… It sounded so familiar…, "Wait a sec, is he, like, a creepy pedo French guy?" He asked. Arthur stared, confused, and nodded. "Holy shit! I hate that guy!" He folded his arms over his chest, "He convinced my brother to go live with him in France even though they didn't even know each other."

"You have a brother?" Arthur asked, a little shocked. He had never heard anything of a brother, though; half of their relationship up until the previous night was entirely based on lies and mystery.

Alfred nodded, "Well, a twin, actually. When my parents got divorced he went all rogue and went to live in Canada with my grandparents, so none of my friends growing up really knew about him. Then he came back and stayed with me for a bit for school and then he met that freakin' creeper on emelody." His face grew angry, "And then he was all 'Hey, Al, is it okay if I go to France?' and I was all 'What about school?' and he was all 'I got a scholarship for this really nice private college there.'" He flopped down on his couch mumbling something about asshole, "How do you know him?"

"We went to school together. He was a pompous jerk who didn't give a rat's arse about anyone but himself. But everyone seemed to like him. " He rolled his eyes and sat down next to Alfred. "If I were still a villain, I'd say lets kick his arse." He sighed, "But that's not my forte anymore."

Suddenly, a huge smile cracked on Alfred's face, "Holy shit I just had an awesome idea!" He sat up and faced Arthur, "So, obviously Francis is evil so we get to kick his ass whenever so that bit is out of the way. But what if me and you joined forces!"

Arthur cocked an eyebrow, "Joined forces?"

"Yeah! Like in the comic books! Batman and Robin, Green Arrow and Speedy! You could be like my sidekick! You can be… The Royal Teabag!" He laughed. Alfred's face was so childish and for some reason, that made Arthur almost want to say yes. Almost.

"Hell no! I don't want to be your bleedin' sidekick!" He said. "The Royal Teabag! You really are an idiot!" He pushed Alfred's arm, playfully.

"Well you're either my sidekick or my Lois Lane." His voice became seductive and though Arthur had no idea who the hell Lois Lane was, he figured he wouldn't mind too much.

The Englishman chuckled, "I don't know who that is," He said.

Alfred gaped. "You don't know who Lois Lane is! That's like… that's like saying you don't know who Mary Jane is!" Arthur shook his head, "GAH! Doesn't anyone read comics in where you're from? Aren't there any super heros in England?"

He paused, "Well, there's The Doctor." Alfred looked confused, "He's an alien time traveler… It's a long story. You'd have to watch it to understand." He thought a moment, "Actually, you might really like it."

Alfred pulled Arthur into his lap and hugged him, " Okay, you read some of my comics and we'll watch that weird English thing."

"It's a deal." Leaned into Alfred's shoulder and smiled, "But I'm not going to be your bloody sidekick."

* * *

><p>The phone rang and the beautiful young man sprang up to answer it, "Please excusez-moi," He said the other man just smiled, he strutted to the phone. "Bonjour?" he sang. "Oh! Ms. Héderváry what a pleasant surprise. I 'eard you got a promotion, congratulations!" He paused, a wide smile making its way onto his face, "You want me to take ze job? In America? One moment please," He placed his hand over the receiving end of the phone, "Matthieu! How would you feel about going back to America?"<p>

The man on the couch stuttered, "Well, uh, I mean, sure. I guess… Where exactly?"

"Buttsecks City. Oh! Isn't zat where your brother lives? "

Matthew smiled, "Yeah… It would be really great to see him." he was a little worried, though... Alfred might be angry that he kind of just left him for an almost stranger in a different country. "You should take the job, though. The genetic engineer position in America was the really nice one, right?"

Francis walked over to Matthew and kissed his cheek, "Merci, mon ami." He turned around and resumed his conversation with the Hungarian woman."Ms. Héderváry, I will take ze job!" He smiled again, "Oh, merci! We will be there as so as we can, zen. Revoir, Ms. Héderváry."

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><p>So review me, bitches! Because reviews make the world go round!<p>

I look forward to seeing you all in chapter two.


	2. Enter: The Bad Touch Trio

I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I don't know why but I got really busy. I had company over for a few days and I have to read this SUPER lame book for my AP English class and it's all a disaster. I hope this chapter will make up for it, but you all are so loving… I know you'll forgive me eventually.

Alfred and Arthur are soo fluffy is kinda gross…

I'm gonna start writing Gilbert and Ludwig's accents now. It'll be rad.

PS I'm totally using your ideas! If you have any more or if you suddenly come up with an idea that would be awesome to read about tell me and I'll probably use it! I'm unoriginal and can't think of anything.

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><p>"H-hello, Alfred." It came out more of a question than a greeting.<p>

Without a word, Alfred promptly slammed the door shut and stormed back into his living room. "Who was that?" Arthur asked, looking up from his book. "And why did you slam the door in their face?"

Alfred flopped down on the couch beside Arthur. "Just Matthew." He said, folding his arms over his chest and pouting. "I don't want to talk to him. He was a total jerk when he moved away."

Faster than Alfred has ever seen Arthur move, the Englishman was at the door and pulling it open, "Dear God, are you alright?" He asked.

Matthew smiled back at Arthur, he wasn't standing so close to the door that it actually hit him, but it looked like he was in pain, none the less. "I was kind of expecting that from Alfred." He said quietly, "I won't intrude, then." This was not the kind of person that was a 'total jerk.'

Arthur caught Matthew's arm, "No, no, that is not right. Please come in. I'll talk some sense into him."

"A-are you sure?" Matthew seemed quite shy, lonely, not like he would do too well in the city. Arthur pulled him inside.

"I'm Arthur by the way, a friend of Alfred's." He let go of Matthew's wrist and went back into the living room and lowered his voice so it was laced with venom, "I swear to god, Alfred, if you don't make nice with your brother you aren't getting to cop off any part of me for an undetermined amount of time. Do I make myself clear?" Alfred nodded.

"Why did you just leave like that, Mattie?" Alfred asked. They were all sitting at Alfred's kitchen table, drinking tea and waiting for the pizza Alfred' ordered. "Just run off with some random French guy you met on the internet!"

Matthew's face grew sympathetic, "I didn't just leave like that. I don't know why you think I met Francis," Alfred cringed at the name, "online. He was one of my only friends back when I lived in Canada." A light blush crept on his cheeks, "I had told you that I planned on moving to France after two years of school here, but you never listened…"

Alfred's eyes grew wide, "Wait what! When did you tell me that!"

"When I got back. When I moved in. When I started school. When I got plane tickets. When I was moving out. Every time you would laugh like I wasn't serious and leave the room…" His violet eyes grew sad. "So I really did it, like I planned. I went and studied culinary arts in France."

There was a long pause as Alfred debated whether to apologize or not. For almost a year he was thinking that Matthew had just took off without any warning… That was apology worthy. But then again, he had his pride to worry about. Arthur was sitting right there, if he apologized, it would make him seem like a pussy! But then again… it _was _his only brother…

"Mattie… I…. well, I'm sorry. That was really lame of me." Matthew's whole face lit up. Alfred blushed and averted his gaze.

Arthur leaned on his hands, resting his elbows in the table, his eyes locked on Alfred. For some reason he felt proud. Alfred had grown up for a second and forgot about himself. It was a huge step that he hadn't expected him to make for quite some time.

"Thank you, Alfred. I-I forgive you." Matthew, shocked by this reply, was still a little behind. _His brother_ had apologized. He had never done that. Ever. It really did make him feel better.

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><p>"Francis! Mi amigo! You're really here!" Antonio embraced the Frenchmen, "Please, come in, come in, I'm sure Gilbert will be happy to see you!"<p>

Upon mention of his name, Gilbert looked around the room. His eyes fell upon the Frenchman and he smiled, "'Bout time you showed up!" He said, happily, "You vant some beer?" He fished a bottle out of the cooler at his feet and held it up for him.

Francis scoffed, " Are you suggesting zat a man of my stature would drink something as lowly as a simple beer!" He pretended to be hurt, "You know I am far more sophisticated zan you give me credit for! I prefer fine wine." His narrowed his eyes and grabbed the bottle. Antonio and Francis joined Gilbert in front of the TV and began gabbing about nothing.

Lovino left the room unnoticed by the German and Frenchman, but Antonio's eyes followed him out the door.

_Now that those three are together, I'll just get forgotten again. _He shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled down the street, the breeze sweeping the litter around his feet. _That damn bastard will never understand. _

There was a quick buzz from his phone. He checked it, expecting the worst.

Amore are you alright? Should I come and get you?

-Antonio

Quickly, Lovino punched back

dont bother me u bastard

He could go without Antonio's stupid, persistent attempts at amore or whatever the hell it was he was pulling. His pocket buzzed again.

Did I do something to hurt your feelings?

-Antonio

u wer a bastard stop txting me

I think I will come and get you. Where are you, love?

-Antonio

like id tell u that

Lovino walked into the first building he saw that was open. It was some old fashioned diner with checkerboard floors and red vinyl seats. He sat down on one of the bar stools and rested his head in the palms of his hands. What a disaster. Why did Antonio have to care so much? Why would he bother texting him? Lovino obviously wanted to be left alone. He didn't want to deal with- bzzt

Lovi could you please tell me what I did?

-Antonio

Stop txting me

I love you.

-Antonio

Flushing, Lovino shoved his phone back in his pocket, determined not to reply to that damn bastard. He refused to give him that satisfaction. It wasn't fair! Why did he think that he had the right to go around saying those things? Love was special, meant for that, well, special person. Lovino wasn't Antonio's special person. And Antonio wasn't Lovino's special person! Antonio was blunt and stupid and far too cheerful and as of late, a bit evil…

"Can I get you anything?" That was a weird accent… Where was it from…? Eastern Europe, perhaps… More east than where he is from.

Lovino stammered, it would be rude not to get anything, but he hated food from diners. Actually, he really just hated American food. It was gross and unhealthy. "Some coffee, please," He said. He honestly didn't like it, but it was more bearable than the other things on the menu.

"Sure thing."

His pocket buzzed again. Lovino was annoyed. It was obviously Antonio. How obnoxious. What didn't he understand? He was being _rejected._

Really, I love you.

-Antonio

* * *

><p>"Who ze hell do you keep texting, it is drivink me crazy. Vhat is so important that you can't just talk to us?" Gilbert asked, quite annoyed with the tapping coming from Antonio.<p>

Antonio sighed, "My little tomato has run away." He replied sadly, "And I was really hoping he would help out tonight."

"Tonight? What is tonight?" Francis asked. There were endless possibilities; they _were_ the Bad Touch Trio after all.

A devious smirk crept onto Gilbert's face, "Do you know about The Hero?" Francis shook his head, "Vell, he is some hot-shot kid zat runs around in spandex 'savink za city.'" He chuckled, "And our freund, has a schmall problem with him." He barked a laugh, "So ve're goink to kick his ass!"

"So we are… Super villains?" Francis asked, a little confused.

"Si! We even have names!" Antonio said running to his closet. "I am…El Bribón Lujurioso!" He pulled out the red cape with a flourish like a real matador.

Francis turned to Gilbert expectedly. "Ah—uh—" El Bribón Lujurioso was an awesome villain name! Gilbert needed one more awesome because he was more awesome than anyone! Der prima Mann?(The Great Man!) No, too showy, he didn't want to come off as a FLAMER like Antonio. Something simpler that told it how it was. Something that didn't overcomplicate things and that bore into people soul's and left a big fat imprint. Something The Hero will never forget because it is SO DAMN AWESOME, "Der Mann. " He said, "I am Der Mann." (The man)

"Will you do it?" Antonio asked, "We can't be the Bad Touch Trio without you!"

"You can't even suggest being complete without Le Roi d'Amour!" (The King of Love)He announced resting both of his hands on his hips.

Antonio smiled. "Then it's set." He strutted back towards the others, "We will take down that annoying Hero. Once and for all."

* * *

><p>"A two week paid vacation? That's sweet! I wish I had a two week paid vacation." Later that evening, Matthew had said his goodbyes and left to the apartment he was sharing with Francis. Though, he did leave off the living with Francis detail because no matter if Matthew had known that frog since they were four, Alfred would still hate him.<p>

Arthur chuckled, "Well I'm still demoted, so my pay is far worse than before." He sipped some tea from a mug that read '#1 teacher.' (Yes, it doesn't make any sense)

Alfred pouted, "Can't you see any of the positive. You've got a whole two weeks. Why don't you stay with me for a while? It'll almost be like we're living together!" His face lit up at that idea. Arthur tended to be great fun when he wasn't being a total pain in the ass. Also, the sex wasn't bad, either.

"There is no way in hell we will be able to coexist peacefully and you know it. And don't you have Hero duties in a half hour?" His eyes darted to the clock.

Tripping over his chair and stumbling down the hall, Alfred called, "This is why I need you here!"

After a short while, Alfred came flouncing out of his bedroom ready to fight crime in his red-white-and-blue ensemble. "How do I look?" He asked, flashing Arthur a dazzling smile.

"Smashing." Arthur said, sipping his tea again. "Oh, one more thing!" He went over to his 'work satchel' that he carried around despite being on a two week paid vacation, and pulled out a very toy-like plastic gun. "It's a prototype, but I thought you might like it. It's a stun gun that uses a very small bullet-like dart that harmlessly neutralizes an enemy and leaves virtually no trace in the bloodstream." He handed it to Alfred, who beamed.

"Ohmygod. Arthur this is the coolest thing I have ever seen." He pulled the Englishman into a tight hug, "Thankyousomuch!" He said and kissed Arthur deeply.

He laughed, patting Alfred's impressive pecs, "I did some research and decided I didn't want to be as useless as some stay-at-home-girlfriend." He sat back down on the couch, "Just be careful with that, okay? There might still be a few kinks. It is a prototype, after all."

* * *

><p>Alfred jogged around the streets of the city, waving to people and smiling away. With Arthur now a 'good guy,' things should show down. Things were going great! Mattie and him were on good terms again, he was practically living with the love of his life, he had a good job, great friends, and he got all the perks of being a super hero.<p>

"Hola mi amigo!" There was a quick flourish of Spanish guitar as Alfred turned. He saw the glint of green eyes behind a black and white mask. The man wore what looked like a matador's suit thing that got attacked by a bedazzler. The man had no guitar and Alfred wondered where the music came from.

From behind the matador stepped a man dressed in all black with an iron cross necklace. He wore a ski mask and the only distinguishable features visible were his blood red eyes. Another man stepped out from behind the Spanish man. He had blonde hair tied loosely back with a red ribbon. He wore a white shirt, opened, and black pants. He also wore a black mask and had a red rose in his mouth.

And all the disadvantages as well.

Alfred threw his arms in the air. He had barely gotten a week's break between Jack Union and these jokes, "And who the hell are you!" He asked, quite angered.

The Spanish man smirked, "Oh I am so glad you asked." He said. He stepped forward, gold embellished shoes clacking on the sidewalk as if he were wearing women's pumps. "I am…" He paused and the guitar played a little riff from nowhere. "El Bribón Lujurioso!" (Alfred had no idea what that meant, so he was considerably less impressed than Antonio would have hoped.)

"And ze awesome me is Der Mann!" The man in black bellowed. By his accent, Alfred assumed he was German… An awful lot like that one bartender from that one bar down the street from the diner…

The blonde man pulled the rose from his mouth, "And I am…" he began. He reached in his pocket and tossed rose petals into the sky so they littered the street, "Le Roi d'Amour!" His voice became almost unbearably sultry. But Alfred was not swayed! He had an irrational hate for French people and it was going to stay that way!

Alfred smirked, "Well I'm The Hero and there is no way in hell I'm gonna let you scum bags do any harm to my city." He pulled out the gun that Arthur had given him and aimed it at the Spanish man.

El Bribón Lujurioso did not seem the least bit afraid of Alfred's weapon. He stepped forward again, heels clip-cloping on the ground. "Oh, my friend, we are not here to harm your precious city." Alfred's finger fumbled around the trigger, hesitating for some unknown reason. The man drew closer, reaching out a gloved hand, nearly caressing Alfred's face. ,"We're here for you."

Just before Alfred pulled the trigger, a tomato went flying and landed right on El Bribón Lujurioso's face. "Goddamn unfaithful bastard!" He heard an angry voice call out, "How… Why the fuck would you do that to me!" (Alfred noted the rhythm of how he spoke and deemed him Italian) They both turned to see a young man with Auburn hair and a very stubborn curl holding another tomato tight. Tears were streaming down his face.

"Lovino?" The man whispered stepping towards the boy. The man suddenly stared to shake and his eyes rolled back into his head as he fell to the ground, drool dripping down his chin.

_Holy shit! I thought Arthur said this was harmless!_ Shocked by El Bribón Lujurioso's reaction to the 'neutralizer' Alfred nearly dropped the gun. He fumbled around with it, barely touching it with his fingertips before catching it clumsily.

The other two men gasped running to El Bribón Lujurioso's side. Der Mann picked up the body, "You are damn luck this man is alive," The German said, glaring. His red eyes bore into Alfred's soul, chilling his blood. He picked up El Bribón Lujurioso's limp body and turned, "I von't do anythink as long as you don't do anythink." He warned. Alfred swallowed hard and holstered his gun.

When the trio had run off back into the city, Alfred turned to see if the boy was still there, but he must have run away. In his place was a splattered tomato on the sidewalk.

* * *

><p>BAAAM! ((Didja like my false foreshadowing? haha. Who thought that something was gonna go wrong with the gun. XD)<p>

P.S. sorry envysfangirl for not using your idea. It'll happen, I promise. It's so funny!

ANYWAY—

Is it wrong to love writing as Lovi so much? God I love Lovi. :]

Oh and I apologize if Antonio is super out of character. It's kinda hard to keep him in character while making him a good villain…

Oh, and updates might not be as frequent as they have been. School's starting in a week and a half and I still have about 240 pages to get through of a REALLY BORING BOOK.

So if I don't update for, like, a week and a half…. It's not you, it's me. I promise.

Tschau!


	3. You're just staring at nothing

SORRY IF YOU READ THIS AND IT WAS ALL [CHAPTER TWO] I don't know why, but this was titled all confused and stuff... I don't know. THIS IS THE REAL DEAL. FO REAL. PROMISE.

So I don't know if you guys ever read the chapter titles, but I'm really happy with this one. It's just a short little thing about Canada. (Yes, I'm side story-ing it up.)

I swear this is the only angst-y/serious chapter I will ever write for this ever.

And since this is NOT A SERIOUS THING. The ages will probably be off. Alfred and Mattie are supposed to be the same age and I think Francis might be older than Arthur in this particular fic… But if there are any contradictions or just weird things about the ages, blame me. Because I don't really care.

Oh, and I'm not getting at all as much traffic or reviews as I did in Alfred F. Jones, Superhero and it's kind of making me sad…

Where did you all go…?

_You're just staring at nothing_

* * *

><p>"Hey Alfred! Come play with us!" Alfred looked up from his collection of twigs, mud and flowers to see three boys around his age with bikes. "C'mon!"<p>

Alfred shook his head, "I can't! I'm playing with Matthew!" He said. Despite all of the troubles between the two, they did spend some time together.

The boy who called out folded his arms over his chest, "I don't see any Matthew. You're too old for imaginary friends." He said. Alfred would never admit it, but at six-years-old he did, in fact, have an imaginary friend. And he wasn't too old for Tony. And—And Tony was a realalien! A _real _one! Not imaginary, so it's oaky!

Confused, Alfred looked right at his brother who was picking leaves off a shrub not four feet away. "He's not an imaginary friend!" He called back. Why would they say that Matthew was an imaginary friend? Sure he was better at sports and cool things like that, but Matthew was a real person.

"Sure, weirdo. Come and play with us when you grow up!" They called back, mounting their shining red steeds. _That was mean…_ Alfred said, angry tears pooling under his eyes.

Matthew turned around to see the boys speed away on their bikes. He was used to this treatment, but Alfred wasn't and he knew it. "Alfred, are you okay? You shouldn't let them bother you." He said dropping the leaves in the pile of mud and flowers.

Alfred smashed his palm into his eyes, smearing the tears on his dirty face. "I'm not!" He declared. "I'm not bothered."

* * *

><p>"Alfred, I'm leaving now." Ten-year-old Matthew knocked on Alfred's door not expecting an answer. "Uh, well, I goodbye, I guess."<p>

Suddenly, the door was thrown open and a red-faced blonde fell onto Matthew, enveloping him in a hug. Alfred never showed his brother this kind of affection. For most of his life, he was usually ignored or bullied. Alfred sniffled, doing a poor job of hiding the fact that he was crying.

"Why're you going to Canada?" He asked trying to sound more angry than sad.

Matthew sighed, "Because mom and dad can't afford to take care of two kids when they're divorced. You can still write me, you have Gramma and Grampa's address." Alfred's hug tightened. They both knew he would never write. Not for a long while, at least.

"Don't be stupid okay? And don't let the other kids push you around." Alfred let go of Matthew and pushed him back. That was manly, right?

A sad smile crept onto his face, "I won't. I promise." Matthew nodded, tears sprouting in his eyes. "Well goodbye then."

* * *

><p>"Bye, Mattie."<p>

"Yes Scott?"

"Obtuse."

"Yes."

"And this one here… Hailey?"

"Right?"

"Look at the angles…"

"Acute?"

"Good."

An eighth grader in a Geometry class at the high school would have been even the slightest bit impressive if anyone noticed that the 13-year-old was even in the class. Not even the teacher saw Matthew's hand raised in the back of the classroom.

"And this line here—Oh, Francis. Is there something you need?" He was a senior.

He smiled, "A call slip." He handed the pink paper to the teacher.

"Oh, he's not in this class." She handed it back, but before Francis had a chance to leave the classroom, she called him back, "Oh, of course. Matthew, please come get this." Normally the teacher would just pass it to the student, but in all honesty, the teacher didn't really know which student was Matthew. And the class was almost at the end of the first quarter.

Surprised, Matthew stood from his seat in the very back and walked to get the pink paper and walked all the way back to his desk.

Room: 205

Student: Matthew Williams

Grade: N/A

Come to: Counseling Office

Time: Immediately.

"Ah, this says to go right away…" Matthew said, reading over the paper. The teacher just continued the lesson. Quietly, Matthew packed up his things and walked out of the classroom almost unnoticed.

Once in the hallway, he looked for some kind of direction to the counseling office. He was only there for one class, so he was really only familiar with the way to his classroom and out to the bikes.

"Allo." A voice sang. The man that had brought the slip—Francis waved at Matthew. Noticed him. "You seem lost. Can I 'elp you?" He asked. He hadn't noticed his accent before. French. Perhaps he was from one of the French speaking provinces. There were still many mysteries about Canada to Matthew. Three years was not nearly as long as it seemed.

Matthew stuttered, not used to anybody approaching him, "Well, uh, I have to find the, er, counseling office, eh…" He said. But three years was long enough to gain a bit of an accent.

The Frenchman smiled, "Yes, right zis way," He walked him down a couple hallways until they reached a door with a sign on it that read 'counseling.'

"T-Thank you," Matthew said, holding the pink note close to his chest

Francis started walking away but turned, "What is your name, little boy?"

"Ah—Uh, Matthew. Matthew Williams?" He had taken his grandparent's last name. He really didn't feel like part of the Jones family anymore.

"Matthieu," Francis purred, "I will remember zat. I am Francis Bonnefoy. Until next time, mon petit chou."

As soon as Francis disappeared down a corner Matthew wondered aloud, "My little cabbage…?" (What's this? He speaks French? Since when?

He couldn't recall what the counseling call was about, but he would remember the other details of that day… He first met his lover that day.

* * *

><p>When Francis moved back to Paris in Matthew's sophomore year of high school, he was a bit upset. Francis was probably his only real friend in Canada and the only person he really cared spending any time with. But he did make a point to visit quite often and that made Matthew extremely happy.<p>

"What is zat you are reading, Matthieu?"

Matthew looked up from the letter he was reading. In all of the six years he lived in Canada, Alfred hadn't written once. But, suddenly, out of nowhere, he got the first piece of mail. "My brother wrote me…" He said a bit in a daze.

_Hey bro,_

_So I know I really suck at writing and I know that I didn't ever write you ever but I am now. We haven't talked for a while and that sucks. What is going on? Having fun in Canada? I bet not as much fun as you would in America. I feel this super deep connection with my heritage and stuff and it suddenly dawned on me that you should feel it too… But if you like Canada, I guess that's okay too. _

_To be honest, I miss having you around. Six years is a really long time and it was kinda cool having a dude around that wasn't a lame dude from school or anything. _

_Mostly, the reason I'm writing is because I have to tell you something, and since you're my brother, you deserve to know. I would have called, but when I get mail it always feels more genuine or something like that. Anyway… I've decided to come out to the whole family. I'm gay. Yeah, yeah, what's a stud like me doing being gay? I don't know. Maybe it's in my genetics. Maybe you're gay too. All I know is that girls don't interest me in the slightest and you deserve to know. _

_I hope this letter doesn't make you like disown me or something. I really do love you, bro. _

_Alfred_

"Is everything alright?" Francis, now a grown man, laid an arm over Matthew's shoulders and peered at the letter. Matthew's expression was almost unreadable. Before Francis could reach any of the good parts of the letter, Matthew folded it and put it in his pocket.

He laughed nervously, "It's, uh, just some stuff at home."

That letter was a lot to handle.

* * *

><p>Once Matthew turned 18, Francis made his move. He respected that Matthew didn't want to do anything until he was older and he respected that he was still in this confusing stage in life regarding his sexual identity. To no surprise to the Frenchman, Matthew returned his feelings.<p>

That night was Matthew's first time.

"Matthieu," His voice was a whisper and his breath was hot. "Matthieu, I want you to come to France with me…" He trailed little kisses down the boy's neck.

Matthew squirmed, his body sensitive and ticklish. Then froze, "W-Wait! You want _me _to go to France with you?" Sure they were something of a relationship but he was just Matthew Williams. He wasn't worth it.

Francis hummed and kissed Matthew's cheek. "Oui."

"A-Are you sure?"

"I 'ave never been more sure about anything in my life." He hugged Matthew and smiled, "You will be starting college next year, oui?" Matthew nodded, "Well I am finishing my work in two years. So you can finish two years 'ere or in America or wherever and zen you can come and move in with me and do some more studying with me."

"But that would be so expensive…" he was wary. He really did want to go to France. It would be amazing! And so many new opportunities! But he really didn't have the money to do something crazy like that not to mention he didn't want to be a burden on Francis.

Francis chuckled, "Mon petit chou, do not worry about zat. I 'ave ze second 'ighest position at my job and make much more money zan I can ever spend."

The young boy was mortified, "I can't take your money! That's wrong!"

"Matthieu, Ja t'aime. S'il vous plait venez en France avec moi." Francis purred kissing Matthew's lips.

Matthew flushed a deep red, "Okay. I will. Ohmygod, thank you Francis. Thank you." Matthew hugged Francis tight and pressed into another kiss. He never could resist when he spoke French.

* * *

><p>"Matt!" Matthew looked up to see a pair of blue eyes smile at him behind a pair of silver wire-framed glasses. "Wow, look at you… I mean, I saw pictures online and stuff but… You're so old!" He laughed pulling his brother into a one-armed hug. He smelled like gasoline and French fries.<p>

Once out of the awkward side-hug, Matthew fixed his glasses and smiled shyly, "Hey Alfred." He said quite tame. "And I'm the same age as you."

Alfred laughed, "Well then I guess I'm old too, then." He held out his arms, gesturing to the airport, "Welcome to America, bro."

* * *

><p>"I just don't get it! When did you decide to move to France?" Alfred was angry. Very, very angry.<p>

Matthew sat at the kitchen table, feeling a bit like he was being interrogated in one of those cop shows. "This was my plan from the very start, Alfred." He explained.

With a loud thud, Alfred threw his arms down on the table, "Then why haven't I heard anything about it, eh?" He demanded. His voice was low and acidic.

Matthew was confused. He had told Alfred all the time. Granted, Alfred did have a tendency to take Matthew's words as a joke. It wasn't fair. "I've told you all the time." He mumbled.

"Liar!" He cried, "You just met this Francis guy!" His face burned hot with anger, "And I'm _family_!"

And for the first time, Matthew was completely fed up with all of Alfred's shit," And yet Francis is closer to me than you have ever been!" He cried his voice high and angry. "And I don't care what you say! I don't even consider myself a Jones anymore!" He pushed his chair from the table and stood. "I'm serious about this, Alfred. I'm leaving."

So Matthew left, forgetting a few things. There was a stuffed bear he had carried around with him. He had kept it for as long as either of them could remember. It lay on the ground in the room that Matthew was using.

* * *

><p>"So tell me all about France." Arthur asked sharing a cup of tea with the Canadian as Alfred worked until 7.<p>

Matthew smiled; "It was really lovely," Arthur flinched. He really, really didn't like France. But it was the polite thing…, "I studied culinary arts until Francis got his job here." Another flinch. This conversation was quickly turning painful for the English party. "But I'm happy to be back here and I'm happy Alfred forgave me."

"Well I'm sure he is glad to have you here as well." Arthur smiled.

Matthew sighed, happily, "For most of my life, I've had this notion that people are just looking through me or, or they're just staring at nothing… But Francis and Alfred and you too… I'm feeling better now." He paused, "Thank you."

* * *

><p>I watched the Paint it White clip... I love Canada, so much. THIS IS FO JOO MAH MAN. Next chapter is gonna be awesome I swear.<p>

Review me and spread the word... I feel so unloved lately...

-sad face-


	4. Loose Ends

It is the last day of summer. Mio Dio. :\ I am not ready. Sorry this is crazy late. That assignment, man.

BTDubbs, I just played Portal and I'm TOTALLY in love with it. (Plus my AssCreed mind + Portal = Megawesomemindfuckofawesome) SO, uh, if you haven't played either of these games, go play them because they rock my socks. I am telling you this because I will PROBABLY make a reference to it a million times now… In every chapter. PLAY THOSE GAMES.

Anyway, thank ya'll for the lovin's. You make my heart shine.

* * *

><p>"Zat couldn't 'ave gone worse!" Francis stared at Antonio. He didn't look like he was in much pain, but his breathing was shallow. "You didn't tell me zat Ze 'Ero 'ad a fucking <em>arme<em> (gun)and 'e would _shoot us!" _

Gilbert shot Francis a glare, "You listen here, pretty boy," He spat, "Zis vas my first night as vell so don't go blaming me for anysink zat vent wrong!" He poked Francis's chest and glared at his face. "If I vere ze von running zis operation, zat damn hero vould be dead!" He mumbled about something being 'awesome.' And folded his arms over his chest.

The front door swung open to reveal Lovino with an empty basket. His face was red and his eyes were puffy, "Is he dead?" He asked.

Francis waltzed over to the boy, arms wide. "No, mon ch—" But Gilbert grabbed the back of his collar and stopped him mid-waltz. Lovino recoiled.

"No and ve don't know vhen he vill be up so just go to your room and leave us to vork." He said, glaring at Lovino. It was times like these when Gilbert most resembled his younger brother. He was always a good guy, following and enforcing the rules. A policeman for a while. Gilbert forgot what he did now, but he didn't really care.

At that, Lovi did what he was told and stormed out of the room.

"I just don't get it. If ve know zat Alfred Jones is ze Hero, zen why aren't ve just killing him now?"

Francis's ears perked "Wait… Alfred Jones? Zat was ze 'ero?" Worry began to show on his face, "But… zat is… I 'ave to go now. Please call me when Antonio wakes up!" He dashed out the door leaving his regular clothes and other things in Antonio's basement. But he needed to see Matthieu! He could be worried, or he could have gotten tangled up in this horrible Hero business…

* * *

><p>"Matthieu!" Francis called, pulling open his door trying his best not to sound panicked. He feared it wasn't working. "Matthieu are you <em>accueil<em>?" (home)

A blonde head poked out of the bedroom and smiled, "There you are, Francis." He stepped out of the bedroom clad in his usual red hoodie and some plaid pajama pants, "It was getting a little late so I was just getting ready for bed." Francis fought the urge to gather Matthew into a tight hug and act like he hadn't seen him for months.

The Canadian turned and walked back to the bedroom, "You coming?" He called, turning around in the doorway. Wordlessly, Francis followed.

* * *

><p>"You said you wanted to kill him, not—Fuck him or whatever the hell that was you were doing!" Lovino threw an apple at Antonio. He did not have a restful night knowing that Lovi was mad at him, so the only reason he actually fell asleep was because of all the drugs in his system left over from that weird gun The Hero had.<p>

Antonio attempted to be welcoming, tried to coax a hug out of the boy, but Lovino was fuckin' pissed. "There is no need to be jealous, mi amore! I only have eyes for—"

Lovino ran over to him and punched him square in the jaw, "I am not jealous." He said dangerously. His eyes read don't-you-dare- think- about- pursuing- this- conversation. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, narrowly missing the produce he had thrown on the floor.

Gently, Antonio brushed the reddening spot where Lovino had punched him. He sighed. He was barely awake from that weird gun thing that The Hero had, and now he'd have to deal with his little tomato getting all worked up over nothing. He decided it best not to talk about it now and knelt down to pick up the bruised fruit on the ground.

"Wow." Antonio looked up to see a tuft of white hair and a pair of judgmental red eyes, "If you vere as awesome as me, you'd have zat kid anyvhere you vant him."

Antonio smiled, "Ah, hombre, if only." He placed the apples and pears on the table. "I guess I'm just hopeless." He chuckled.

"You are smiling, but you don't sound very happy." Gilbert turned, "Call Francis. He vants to know you are avake."

* * *

><p>Alfred was panicking. Arthur wasn't picking up his phone and he had this <em>tiny <em>notion in his head that he just _shot_ somebody with a crap gun and _maybe _killed him. He paced around his kitchen, running his hands through his hair listening to the annoying ringing. And of course all of his text messages were totally ignored.

"Shit! I know this is, like, the fifth time I've called in a row, but, SERIOUSLY, Arthur I need to talk to you about that gun thing you made me!" He hung up and started biting the ends of his fingers, as there were no nails left for him to gnaw on.

There was a knock at the door and Alfred was so tense he ended up screaming. Regaining his posture, he walked over to the door and opened it as calmly as possible. Arthur smiled, a little wary. "Did you just scream?"

"HOLY FUCK ARTHUR!" Alfred cried. "OHMYGOD DID YOU GET MY TEXT!"

Confused, Arthur cocked an eyebrow and set his briefcase down, "No, my phone died this afternoon and I haven't had a chance to charge it. Are you really freaking out about that?"

Alfred pouted, "Well you didn't text me back!" He fell onto his couch, "Just… We need to talk about that gun you made me." Arthur took a seat next to him and nodded, gesturing him to go on. "It, like, I dunno, flipped out and I think I…" Arthur stared expectedly and Alfred bit his lip, "I think that something and… IthinkImighthavekilledsomeone!" He blurted.

Arthur's jaw dropped. _That couldn't have happened the sedative should have only lasted 30 minutes at the most and I made all those precautions… It's just a prototype, but I'd never trust something out there that had the capabilities to kill someone in the hands of Alfred…this—that's just—no, it's preposterous._ "W-Wait. What happened exactly?"

So Alfred explained. He told Arthur about the man's convulsions and the eyes rolling into the back of his head and the drool. Alfred expected the worst. A lecture about leaving a body at the scene of the crime. (to be fair he had those two other dudes there to take care of things, really) Or he thought that Arthur would just sit there, quite, staring at the floor thinking god knows what. But instead, he laughed.

Completely baffled at this response, Alfred gawked. "Oh close your mouth, you look like an idiot." Arthur said between chuckles, "Ah, leave it to you to think that he died!" A new fit of giggles emitted from the Englishman, "Nothing went wrong with the gun, love. That's supposed to happen. If he started foaming at the mouth, then we'd have a problem." He smacked Alfred's back laughing again, "He should be fine by now." He stood, about to head into the kitchen to make tea.

Arthur put the kettle on the stove and Alfred followed him to the kitchen. The Englishman gasped as Alfred's arms snaked around his hips, "I was really worried, Arthur," he whispered, leaning his head on Arthur's shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I'll be more specific next time, then." Arthur replied. He placed a hand on Alfred's cheek, "I'm sorry, love."

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry."<p>

"Shut up."

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are now shut up."

"Ti Amo."

Lovino froze. Antonio often said all those sweet nothings (emphasis on the 'nothings') in Spanish, but not usually Italian. Antonio noticed Lovino's reaction.

"Ti Amo. Ti Amo." The languages were so similar, it's not so special. No way, no way it's special. Antonio took Lovino's hand into his own. Surprisinggly, Lovino didn't pull away immediately. Antonio was probably just messing up his own damn language because he's such an idiot. "Mi dispiace tanto." Lovino flushed at glared at Antonio.

"T-ti odio, ti maiale" Lovino's voice wavered and Antonio knew he was forgiven.

* * *

><p>Arthur fought the urge to get up and leave. "No. Absolutely not." Alfred smiled anyway, "This is preposterous!"<p>

"Pleeeeaaaaase!"

"No!" I am _not _wearing that _ridiculous _outfit!"

Alfred was holding up short-shorts with a Union Jack printed across the ass a, red bow tie and a dress shirt. "But it's so—"

"It is _not _'so'! I swear to God Alfred, if you so much as attempt to get me to wear that anywhere outside of your bedroom—" Arthur stopped talking. He wasn't really sure what he was saying.

Alfred smiled wider and Arthur flushed deeply. "So you're saying…"

"Alfred you have somewhere to be!" Arthur frantically pointed at his watch.

"That you'd wear this…" Alfred stepped forward, his eyes lowering seductively. "If it was in my bedroom?" Arthur shoved his hands onto Alfred's face and pulled his cheeks apart, forcing Alfred to make a ridiculous face.

"Perhaps, that is not a promise." Arthur snapped. He let go and turned, "Now get ready; you're going to be late."

* * *

><p>"You are staying here!" Gilbert glared at Antonio who pouted. "And I sink zat ve should talk about zis Alfred before ve talk about zis Hero."<p>

"And I don't want you wandering around when we don't 'ave a plan or anything!" Francis was very worried about this whole 'Alfred is The Hero' stuff, Alfred was Matthew's brother! They couldn't kill Matthew's brother! What would Matthew think? What would Matthew do if he knew that Francis helped! It was all a disaster, "Anyway, 'e is probably expecting us to show up tonight. We should wait at least until tomorrow before trying again."

Antonio sighed, "Fine. Tomorrow, then." He was disappointed; he expected the others to be so much more excited about it. He thought that if anyone would want to do this with him, it would be Francis and Gilbert. They _were_ the Bad Touch Trio! "We will come up with a plan and tomorrow we will end him."

* * *

><p>"Ahh!" Arthur tugged on the bow tie that was becoming incredibly tight. "Ahh fuck!" He pulled the tie off and quickly unbuttoned the dress shirt.<p>

"Shit you look so fucking sexy…" Alfred panted. If Arthur wasn't already bright red, he'd blush. Alfred was lucky that The Bad Touch Trio decided not to go out that night because he had accidentally made some other plans. He had begged Arthur just to try on the outfit just as a preview of what _might _happen in the future. Well, the future ended up being within fifteen minutes.

Blue shorts were tossed about Arthur's ankle as he attempted to get more friction, "FFuck! Harder!" Arthur hooked his legs around Alfred's waist and forced Alfred's length deeper inside of him. Alfred tried to move quicker, but things were getting muddled in his mind. Everything was incredibly hot and he was having a very hard time keeping things straight in his mind.

"Ahh! Oh—America!" Arthur cried. Alfred stopped moving, but didn't pull out, causing Arthur to whine.

Alfred let his glasses slip off his nose and onto the bed just beside Arthur, "Did you just call out 'America'?" He asked, feeling a mixture of confusion, pleasure, and, for some reason, pride.

Arthur grew a shade redder, "Ahh! I—uh—it's because—"He bit his lip and averted his eyes, "I… I feel like I'm making love to America when I have sex with you…" He mumbled.

For some reason, Alfred was feeling even more pride and incredibly turned on, "Ah, so does that make you Britain?" He laughed. He kissed Arthur causing him to moan.

"S-Sure just please your bloody dick!" He cried wiggling his hips.

Alfred started pushing into Arthur with new vigor, hearing what he was most proud of being called out in bed was a total turn on. "Aahh Ameri—" Arthur stopped himself.

"No, no, say it…" Alfred whispered his voice incredibly husky. "Say it, Britain."

"AHHMERICAA!" Arthur cried wrapping his arms around Alfred's neck. "Shit! Iloveyou Alfred!" Arthur kissed Alfred trying to drink up as much of the American as he could possibly manage before coming. "Ohgod I love you too bloody much."

* * *

><p>I AM SORRY IF THIS IS TOO SHORT FOR THE WAIT I MADE YOU ENDURE! D:<p>

I AM A HORRIBLE PERSON SO I MADE UP WITH IT WITH SEX, RIGHT?

RIGHT?

Anyway, school starts tomorrow. Bleh. I love you, but updates will prolly be super not as frequent because I have to get a life and that sucks.

So you might get more apology sex later. Also, I have been requested to draw some Spamano by the lovely Hearts and it will probably end up on my DA in the near future. Also, comics of what happens that doesn't get written.

For example: Der Mann's outfit and Francis's disapproval.

"Did you curl your hair?"

"It looks fabulous, unlike somebody who just puts on whatever 'e sees!"

"You are just jealous because you have to vork to look awesome! Unlike me, I just look awesome alvays."

If you have ideas for art that you want to see tell me! (I am also a fan of AssCreed Portal and Dragon Age so I do arts for that as well. Even gay art! :D)

((Thank you Alphine for the corrections!))


	5. Falling apart

SCHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL. That is my excuse.

I LOVE YOU. I can't say it enough and I understand that I have said it since chapter two of Alfred F. Jones, Superhero. But, seriously, without you, I would be a lot sadder.

So thank you.

ANNND this chapter is dedicated to one of my moost faithful readers (AKA the one that reviews and responds to my responses and provides ENDLESS possibilities) ENVYSFANGIRL! You are radical.

Again.

I apologize for the crap filler bits in here. I want longer chapters, but I'm crazy busy. (I got Lady Macbeth in my school play. Yikes!)

* * *

><p>Arthur lay sprawled out on Alfred's bed clad only in a half-buttoned dress shirt. To his knowledge, Alfred was still asleep. He figured he should check the news if something terrible happened the one night that Alfred decided <em>not<em> to go out. Before he got up, Arthur felt a finger run down his thigh tracing a small tattoo.

"Ahh! Fuck! Alfred what the hell!" He cried spinning around to see a certain American smiling back at him.

"I never noticed that before," He pointed out. "Since when have you had a tattoo?"

A low sigh emitted from Arthur, "I got it right after I graduated college…" He said. He was only 19 (see chapter three of Alfred F. Jones, Superhero) and was feeling rebellious. Sure it was no way that a doctor should act, but Arthur really didn't want to work in the medical field anyway.

The tattoo was a small shield shaped crest lined with yellow, filled with black with three white stars in it, and on a scroll under the crest written in fancy lettering was written 'Kirkland.' "I was feeling rebellious, but I didn't want anyone to know I had a tattoo." He laughed a bit nervously.

Alfred paused and made a face. He was feeling a bit of unnecessary jealousy, but since he knew Arthur wouldn't care, he shared his thoughts, "I really don't like the idea of some guy being that close to your ass," He ran a finger over the tattoo again causing Arthur to squirm.

"Shit!" He pulled his leg away," Alfred this was almost ten years ago! And it was a girl that did it." He said.

Suddenly, Alfred tacked Arthur onto the bed, "Well good, because I don't like sharing."

* * *

><p>"It was a surprisingly slow night in downtown Buttsecks City last night with no sign of The Hero or any of the new threats he faces. Inspector Ludwig Bielschmidt is taking over the full investigation on the new 'super villains' of Buttsecks City. No evidence is conclusive at this point but it seems..." Arthur turned and laughed.<p>

"You are one lucky son of a bitch." He said. Alfred just shrugged and laughed.

Wincing as he stretched out his sleeping legs, Alfred drew himself up and out of the nest he had build on the couch with Arthur. "Yeah but not so lucky that I don't have to work." He turned on the coffee maker that noisily complained that there were no beans in the overused machine. Alfred grumbled and turned it off. "ARGH. I thought I knew how to use this damn thing!" He griped.

"God, you really are lucky."

* * *

><p>"And <em>zat <em>is how you kill a man properly." Gilbert nodded at the illustration on the table. There was a man in the illustration and there was a lot of red crayon, and not much else. Antonio didn't seem _displeased_ with the idea, but he was still feeling a bit on edge if this really was what Gilbert wanted to do. Francis leaned back in his chair, covering his eyes with his arm.

"Oh non, non! Mon ami! Zis is absolutely… It is not right!"

Gilbert shot a poison glance at Francis, "Killing someone is not right. If ve are going to do it, do it zhe right way."

"But is it necessary to take one of his teeth? Hombre, that just seems sick." Antonio interjected.

Gilbert sighed, "Vell I don't see you coming up wiss a better plan than running up to him wiss no veapons or anysink!" After a pause Gilbert slapped the table, "And if ve don't go vith my plan…. I vill not do it!" He looked at both Antonio and Francis with a very ridiculous face and turned. Then, for dramatic effect, he stormed out the door.

Francis let out a loud sigh, "Zat man is a maniac." He said. He let himself lean forward and meet Antonio's eye, "We are not going to let 'im go through with ziz ridiculous plan, are we?" In his mind he was praying that Antonio say they couldn't. He needed to protect Matthew and that would involve protecting Alfred as well.

"Oh no, Gilbert is getting carried away." Antonio replied. He was conflicted though. Gilbert had a point. He didn't have any idea about killing Alfred and if he wasn't willing to go all the way, then what would be the point in even beginning? "But we do need a plan, something that will end The Hero. Soon."

"Mon cher, may I be totally honest with you?" Francis asked after a brief moment of silence.

"Of course, my friend." Antonio asked, chuckling that Francis would ask such a question.

" I don't think we should kill Alfred." He blurted. Antonio's jaw dropped, "I know, I know, it means the world to you… But Antonio… 'E is Matthieu's brother." The more he thought, the more he spoke, "Antonio, you know zat you mean ze world to me, but I 'ave to think of who I love. And I love Matthieu. I just cannot… Antonio, I am sorry, but I cannot help you kill Alfred Jones." Francis stood from the table and left the room, dragging his feet and feeling remorseful.

Antonio sat, flabbergasted. His choices were to forget about killing The Hero or brutally murder him. Neither was what he wanted to do. So he sat at the table and pondered his options, which were few. He could do it himself however _he _wanted to do it. Which seemed more difficult than he wanted. Not to mention he didn't want to go through with it without the others. So he could always hire someone to do it. Sure, he wouldn't get the satisfaction, but he would have that brat out of the way and that's really what counts.

So he went to the internet. It wasn't the best idea, but it was really his only option. He came across a website that seemed promising…

Welcome to Ivan's Business! The number 1 approved hitman service in all of Russia!

"He really helped me get through my debt troubles quicker than any other option! Thanks Mr. Braginski!" – James from Ohio

"When I was having trouble with bullies, I called up Mr. Braginski and he got rid of all of those problems within the first week of school. Best service anyone could ask for!" Michelle from Texas

Ivan Braginski is the only way to get rid of those problems in confidence. Only 99 American dollars!

Antonio laughed at the website. The background was a photo of a field of sunflowers and there were pictures of a burly man wearing a scarf giving thumbs ups and winking. It all seemed ridiculously cheesy and entirely unrealistic. It looked more like some high school girl's blog than a hitman's webpage.

Feeling curious, Antonio clicked the 'contact Ivan Braginski' tab. There was a box where you were instructed to 'fill out the target' and 'date of termination.' Almost laughing as he did so, Antonio filled out each box. He clicked the send button and a little screen popped up asking for credit card information.

Antonio paused. $100 was a lot of money… _but_ he had been having great days at the restaurant… But he went through so much trouble getting everything perfect for The Bad Touch Trio.

He had been there for almost all of Alfred's sad evolution from waiter to hero. He was there when Alfred picked up the sad excuse for a costume from the post office. Even said hello like it was no big deal. If he wanted to keep a secret, one would think that he would try to keep the red white and blue jumpsuit covered. He was there when he first started patrolling, smiled and winked as if he had never wronged the Spaniard. He knew from the very moment he first lay his eyes on The Hero that the blonde hair, blue eyed devil was Alfred F. Jones. No, he wasn't as blind as the rest of the citizens in Buttsecks City.

So Alfred did his business without any troubles until Jack Union came along. But now Jack Union decided to disappear for no reason. So The Hero was back to living the life of a great hero. So ending Alfred's life would be so much more fitting if it a super villain was doing it… Then again, if you can't get something done right, then have someone else do it for you! ((What what? Never do that, kiddies)) So he punched in the numbers feeling rightfully angry.

_Thank you for choosing Ivan Braginski! _Alfred F. Jones _of_ Buttsecks City _will be terminated by _October 31.

Antonio had no idea just the hole he had dug himself, or, rather, the hole he had dug for Alfred F. Jones.

* * *

><p>"No! No! No! He doesn't like it when that's not in the living room!" Toris grabbed the vase out of Ravis's hand and ran it back into the living room, placing the vase on a round table.<p>

Ravis scrambled around behind him "But the flowers need water!"

Toris turned and almost glared at the boy, "These are _fake_!"

Embarrassed, Ravis turned and started dusting the stairwell. Eduard ran into the room brandishing a mop, "Time?" He called.

"Three hours!" Toris called back. They scrambled around as they attempted to make everything absolutely perfect. The house wasn't even a mess to begin with, but they had already been cleaning for hours.

Ivan was coming.

* * *

><p>"Are you excited?" Matthew asked. He poked his head out from behind Francis's shoulder.<p>

Francis chuckled, "Oui, my love." He replied turning and embracing Matthew. Francis's first two days at 'work' were just tours and meeting people. No real work. That day was going to be the day he finally got to see his office and his workspace—the basement. He knew that Arthur was working there last, so he was sure that the space would be pristine. The Englishman did love things organized.

"When you get back I'll take you out to dinner and talk all about it," Matthew straightened Francis's lapels and smiled.

"Non!" Francis cried, he kissed Matthew's forehead, "I will be the one taking you out." He winked and headed to the door, "Five o'clock." He promised.

"Five o'clock." Matthew repeated.

When Francis reached his work, he checked in with the secretary and headed to his desk to grab his assignment. There were twelve manila folders on his desk, each filled with fat confidential files and tests and experiments for him to carry out. The whole time Arthur had been working there, he didn't do a single thing. So Francis had to pick up the slack and get twice the work done twice as fast. He sighed, expecting an easy first day and opened the first file.

The first hour was him signing a lot of paperwork. Confidentiality contract, safety contract and other such madness. He took the file with him down to the basement and signed his name in with the secretary running the bottom floor.

He could smell it before he saw it. It smelled like a barnyard petting zoo combined with a statue in New York. Cringing, he opened the door to reveal three incredibly large cages reaching from the floor of the room to the ceiling, two of which had an unbelievably huge hedgehog and a ten-foot-tall pigeon.

Francis's jaw dropped. What was this madness? Arthur did it? Arthur managed to grow these creatures into this size? Francis reached for words but found none, so he settled on making weird noises from his throat. If he managed this, then Arthur was a lot more talented than they gave him credit for! And why would they fire him? "Mon dieu! What _are _these things!"

The pigeon started cooing. It sounded healthy, regular. Like a normal pigeon, only huge. The hedgehog opened his eyes and blinked at Francis and yawned. How could he have done that? It was astounding! No genetic engineer could have ever pulled this off! It was impossible! ((I don't know anything about genetic engineering, BTDubbs))

"Ahh!" A voice cried out. There was a thud and a yelp. Francis whipped around searching for the source of the noice.

"Who is zer!" He called brandishing the file as if it were a weapon.

"Bonnefoy? Oh goddammit!" The voice was obviously English. But there was no way… well, actually, there were many, many ways and reasons why Arthur would come back to his work space. "What the bloody hell are you doing here!" He ran over to the cage, "Did you do anything to my—"

"Zey _are _yours!" Francis cried.

Arthur narrowed his eyes, "Indeed they are."

"'ow in ze world did you pull that off!" Francis ignored his dislike for the Englishman for the moment, because he needed to know. "You 'ave to tell me! 'Ow did you get fired with something like zis in 'ere!"

Arthur felt a smile creep onto his lips, "Well…"

* * *

><p>"Privet(Hello) my friends!" The three boys were scooped into incredibly burly arms, "The house looks so pretty! Ah, I have missed Amerika!"<p>

"A—W-we h-have missed you too, Mr. Braginski." Toris squeaked out. "W-welcome back."

"Yes! Now, do either of you know a man named Alfred F. Jones?"

* * *

><p>ARFHGHOSKDG! I am so sorry for this chapter. I am sad that this is not awesome DX. Next chapter I PROMISE will be awesomesuperfantasticamazing. With a lemon. PROMISE. But I'm going to be WORKING FOR FREAKING EVERYTHING.<p>

ALSO if you guys review more, I'll have more motivation to update quicker!


	6. Hang on Little Tomato

Oh My God I am so sorry! I have been so freaking busy! Seriously, I don't get home until 6:30 every night and then I have homework so there goes another hour. Then I have workwork and dinner and soon it's nearing 10 and I need to go to bed!

When this play is over…. UGH.

OH, and the song that Antonio is singing (No meta) is called Amado Mio by Pink Martini. I highly recommend listening to it while reading the lemon. Or just to listen to it. I'm very obsessed with this band.

Oh, and I LOVE Prussia in this chapter. I seriously had SO MUCH FUN writing as him. (And when we're done with this story, if you want the awesome Gilbert to actually make sense… ARGH nevermindnevermind.)

* * *

><p>"Oh my god… Arthur zat is amazing…" Arthur relished the older man's astonishment. "I… But why? I mean, ziz is amazing, fascinating, completely revolutionary… But why did you do it?"<p>

Arthur paused. He couldn't tell Francis. Even he Francis had never known who Jack Union, he couldn't risk his secret. Not to mention there was that Spanish man still out there who knew who he was… But there was no word from him, so he probably dropped it. "I was curious, I guess."

"I am 'onestly blown away. I 'ave 'alf a mind to go and quit my job."

"Wait, what?" He didn't try too hard to mask his glee.

Francis leaned onto his chin, "I don't deserve ziz job. Ze reason you weren't working was because of zese!" He gestured to the cages, "I can't do zat." He took Arthur's hand into his own, "Arthur, you are amazing." He stood. "I am going right now."

"Wait-!" Arthur pulled his hand from Francis's. As much he wanted to have Francis go back to Paris or wherever the hell he lived, he didn't deserve to lose his job. Not to mention if anyone were to find out that Jack Union wasn't really dead, he could be arrested and that would suck. "No. I… I was fired. And you came all the way from France. I don't need the job. Please."

Francis smiled sadly, "Are you sure?" He asked.

"I have to go now. Don't quit your job. And please don't tell anyone." Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

><p>"I am <em>not… <em>whatever the hell you think I am!" Lovino glared at his brother.

"Oh, but Lovii! I wish you would just accept it and enjoy it!" Feliciano rested his chin into his hand, "I would say that he's not going to wait around forever, but he probably will." He sighed, "I just want my brother to know love—"

Lovino's face flushed "I. Am. Not. In. Love." He growled, "And I never will be. Ever." He violently got out of his chair, almost knocking it over, "And even if I were, it wouldn't be with Antonio. It wouldn't be with a _man_ none the less. You are an idiota, Feliciano." He stormed out of Feliciano's apartment, leaving his brother disappointed and a bit depressed.

Of course, Lovino was lying. He lived in Buttsecks city after all. No straight man in the right mind would live there. But Lovino wasn't just lying about being gay. No, he was in love as well. And he would never, never admit it, because love showed weakness and Lovino was _nothing_ close to weak. And the damn tomato bastard would never, never find out. The weirdness and the weakness and the stupid, stupid feelings would all blow away in time.

"Why would you tell him that?" Lovino glared. He wasn't sure how he ended up here… It probably had something to do with that damn Gilbert. He said that he wouldn't kick out family, and since Feliciano was pretty much married to that other potato-eater, they were practically family… Right? Damn bastard. "You do know you're not going to, like, live happily ever after if you, like, screw it up like that."

"And what the hell do you know!" Lovino cried, his head falling to the table. "You don't know him! Fuck, you don't even know me!" He was the most upset he'd ever been. Ever.

Feliks stood from the booth, "You know what? You're pathetic. You have this great guy who, wait for it, _loves you_ and you have every opportunity to return that." He turned, "But you're too stupid to do, like, anything about it."

"Fuck you, ladyman!" Lovino called.

Lovino felt a strong hand grip his shoulder and bring him up by his shirtsleeve. "You aren't allowed to loiter around here, damn drunk," he heard an American accent say, so he was local. The next thing Lovino remembered was his face scraping against cold concrete.

* * *

><p>"Well that guy really sucked. Who the hell was he anyway?" Alfred clapped his hands together as if he just completed some difficult task.<p>

Feliks shrugged, "I dunno. He just came in and ordered coffee. I didn't know how drunk he was until he really started talking."

Alfred sighed, "You were sitting with him for like an hour, though." He said picking up the half empty cup from the table.

"He was having love issues. So, ya'know, I thought I'd help out a little." He sat down on one of the barstools, "When do you think Toris'll come back to work? It feels kinda, like, bleak in here without him." His voice hinted at utter sadness and longing.

Dropping the cup in the sink, Alfred shrugged, "He said he was having 'very important company' and he could be gone the whole week." He sat down next to Feliks, "You know who it is?"

Feliks shrugged, "No. But he used to, like, go on these weird trips all over Europe for 'very important company.' Drove me nuts." He stared at the clock without registering the time. He couldn't wait to get home.

* * *

><p>"Hey Toris!" The brunette tentatively poked his head in to Mr. Braginski's office. "Did you know that my target is famous!" He laughed, "He's some superhero. Isn't that silly?" His eyes sang of playfulness, but he was talking about murder.<p>

He was one more person to add to the list of things that were going wrong with Alfred's life. He just didn't know about it.

Toris gaped at the white teeth and shining blue eyes on the screen, "He calls himself 'the hero.' I think it's silly." Ivan said. Toris wanted to shrink into the farthest depths of hell. He wanted to tell whatever demon spawned the devil sitting in Mr. Braginski's office to take it back and deal with the problem it made. "I guess that makes me the villain then." His voice was far too dark for Toris's comfort. He needed to get out of there. "I never liked superhero stories." He said, "Because the bad guy always seemed so pathetic. I think it would be nice for the bad guy to win. Don't you?" He smiled at Toris.

"Oh, I think I hear something happening. I will go check that out." He ran as fast as he could.

_Oh no, nononono! Alfred is Ivan's target! Nonono! What do I do? What do I do?_ He burst into one of the spare rooms that Eduard and Ravis were sharing. "Do you know who Ivan's target is?" He asked, out of breath.

They shook their heads wordlessly. It appeared that Ravis was actually shaking. (He was like that a lot when Ivan came to town)

"Alfred. He's going to kill Alfred."

(dun dun dun)

* * *

><p>"Oi! Are you even listening to me? I told you to get out of here!" Lovino stared. He could not place the voice.<p>

"You sound funny." He mumbled. He leaned on the man, "And you've got something on your face." He started rubbing the man's chin. For some reason the thing wouldn't go away. It was as if it were part of the man's face or something.

"MEIN GOTT!"

"You sound a lot like that damn potato eater my brother's dating. GodIhatethatguy. He's such an ass." He laughed, "He's always going around talking about order and stuff. He thinks that 'cause he's a cop he can do whatever the hell he wants. Did I mention he's fucking my brother? Ugh that pisses me off!" He turned back to the man, "You're not a German are you? God, I hate fucking Germans. My brother's dating one, you know. It pisses me off."

Pieces were put together, "Your brother is dating Ludwig Bielschmidt?"

"Mio Dio! Don'ttalk about that damn potato eater." The man fished a cell phone from his pocket, but Lovino didn't notice, "He fucks my brother so often, Feli doesn't even care anymore! It's just like its normal!"

He ranted for a while. He didn't notice when Roderich called Ludwig and requested that he _personally_ come and take care of the drunk Italian on his doorstep.

"Fratello!" The older Italian was tackled by his brother, "I was so worried about you! I heard that things weren't doing to good for you! You were drunk and I was so worried! Fratello!"

"Take me home, idiota." Lovino grumbled.

"Ja, Antonio?" Ludwig peered into the building. "Did you know zat your door is vide open?"

Gilbert leaned into the room and smiled, "Bruder! How rare of you to stop by." He grinned. Maliciously. "So I've been reading all ziz gay porn lately online… Ze anime kind with all ze big boobs on ze vomen and ze short skirts and all…"

Ludwig rolled his eyes; Gilbert had been toying with this whole 'coming out' deal with Ludwig for weeks now. He didn't believe that Ludwig was really gay. Just confused. "I do not care, Gilbert."

"Ah, vell I just thought I vould tell you zat it's crap. It's more like two girls doing it. Totally boring." He chuckled as Ludwig flushed. "I mean, zeir faces and hair, not to mention ze expressions. It's all so girly."

"I found Lovino down town. He's very drunk. Please try not to do anything heinous vile he is in zis state." He sighed and turned before Gilbert could torture him further.

Lovino growled at Ludwig and the closing door. Then he growled at Gilbert. There was a gentle humming coming from the basement. Some singing too. It sounded really pretty. It was totally Antonio singing too. What a fag. Lovi tripped as he went down the stairs to where Antonio was lurking and growled some more. Then he proceeded to yell some unintelligible Italian.

"Let me love you forever… And let forever begin tonight." He sang quietly. He pulled Lovino onto the couch in the basement. Lovino didn't really want to argue anymore. He was really, really tired. "Amado mio(loved one of mine), what have you been doing?"

"Shutup. I am sleeping." Lovino replied.

Antonio pulled Lovino's shoes off, tossing them on the ground carelessly. Lovino shot up, pissed off, "I told you to leave me alone, bastard. I'm tired and drunk and angry and I just want to go to sleep."

"Mi amore…" Antonio whispered he leaned over Lovino's body. "I do not think we are going to be doing any sleeping tonight." He whispered. Lovino flushed but he was so drunk he didn't care. Honestly, it felt good to have Antonio so close.

Antonio trailed kisses along Lovino's neck and down his collarbone. "Get off of me," Lovino whispered. His voice was incredibly breathy. "Ohmygod, Antonio get off…" It sounded like an invitation. Antonio reached under Lovino's shirt.

"You are very warm, my love." His fingers ran across Lovino's perked nipple. Lovino's face contorted into one confused between pleasure and discomfort. He didn't want it. But he did want it. So so bad. "Did all that alcohol do that?" He was leaning into Lovino's ear and whispering with hot breath. Suddenly he went down, his face hovering above Lovino's crotch.

"You're stupid…" Lovino breathed.

"You're horny." Antonio returned in a sing-song voice. He grabbed the zipper in his teeth and slowly dragged it down. Anticipation was throbbing through Lovino. And it was showing.

Lovino tried to push his ass deep into the couch cushions. He didn't want Antonio to see, but he didn't think to use his hands. "Don't." He whispered.

"Tell me to stop then." Antonio said, "Tell me 'Antonio I want you to stop.' And I will stop right now." He started tugging down Lovino's jeans. Lovino whined, but didn't say a word. His face grew more and more red.

The air inside the basement was cool, and Lovino wanted to put his pants back on. "W-What if Gilbert comes down?" He asked. Antonio's lips hovered just above Lovi's dick.

"He won't." He answered quickly and licked the underside, relishing the surprised noise Lovino made and the pleasure of finally being that intimate with Lovi. The small Italian writhed. It was burning hot. The air was so cold and Antonio's tongue was so hot.

"Don't do that." He whispered. Antonio didn't listen. "Antonio if you don't stop—" He gasped and Antonio took a hint. He pulled away leaving Lovino panting and grasping the cushions.

Lovino couldn't really remember when Antonio got all… well… prepared for sexing it up. Ya'know… _suited up_ and all. But he was. His hands were on Lovino's knees, gently forcing them apart. And he just pushed in. No prepping or anything, he just drove in. Fast. And the weirdest part was it didn't hurt. At all. It only felt good good good.

They were surprisingly quiet. Lovino tried his best to keep his mouth shut as to not alert the perverted Prussian upstairs. Antonio went through it with only a few grunts. Their skin was quiet too. It was really, just perfect.

Lovino clung to Antonio's back. He wasn't sweaty, which was a little weird. But he didn't care. He liked the closeness, the intimacy. He liked being special to someone and having that stupid, crumby, girly feeling returned.

* * *

><p>Lovino woke up in a cold sweat. Antonio was nowhere in sight. <em>That's weird… I thought he fell asleep next to me…..<em>He interrupted his thoughts to feel around, drink in the reality, shake the sleep from his eyes. Something was off… It didn't feel quite right… The more Lovino woke, the more of that night's endeavors fluttered away from his mind.

His head hurt and something was tugging at his junk. Oh, wait, that was a blanket. He was hung over and had a boner.

_Oh shit! That didn't happen did it! Ohshitohshit, whywhywhydidIdreamthat?_

"Lovino, are you finally awake?" Lovino scrambled to hide anything embarrassing combined with burying his face in the couch cushions so that the sound would be muffled. God, his head was throbbing. Loud footsteps grew closer, "Ah, I guess you're still asleep."

He left the room. Lovino's heart was pounding impossibly loud and his face was burning. Things were going to be a little awkward from now on.

* * *

><p>"Can I get ya something?"<p>

"Da, how is the coffee here?"

Alfred paused, _huh, that's a funny accent_ "Uh, it's good. Hot. Freshly brewed." He replied.

The man nodded, smiling, "Then I will have some of the coffee and some white toast." His smile seemed painfully sincere and handed the menu back.

"Comin' right up," He didn't bother to write it down. For some reason, he was feeling bitter. The guy was a Russian, that much was obvious. And usually Alfred didn't mind, Buttsecks city got a lot of foreign customers. Hell, each worker seemed to come from a different country.

Alfred dropped some bread into the toaster and grabbed a mug. "Check out the freak." He whispered, pouring the coffee. "Russian." He finished.

Feliks glared. He shared Alfred's bitter feelings towards Russians. He didn't reply though.

Alfred brought the man his toast.

* * *

><p>"Ahh, you are so drunk my darling." Francis rested his forehead on Matthew's shoulder.<p>

Matthew laughed and unlocked the door, "No, Francis, you are drunk. I drove us home." He helped the man back into the dark apartment. Their dinner was wonderful, but something seemed like it was bothering Francis. So he got a bottle of wine. And drank it. All.

"Matthieu. I would like to make love to you tonight..." Matthew flushed. _We shouldn't. He has work tomorrow... _

...

"Ahh-! Ahh! Francis, yes, yes, yes!" Francis gripped Matthew's thighs and pushed into the small Canadian. "Ohmygod! Ahh!"

"Any louder and you'll wake ze neighbors, mon ami." Francis whispered in a husky voice.

Matthew flushed deeper and covered his eyes. He didn't try to muffle his screams, though.

* * *

><p>I AM VERY HAPPY WITH THIS CHAPTER. (even though it's short and that's lame)<p>

BUT I AM A POO AND SUCK FOR MAKING IT SO FREAKING LATE.

I also apologize that the lemon is a little crappy. It's a dream and all so... ya'know... I figured it shouldn't be, like, 100% making sense? I dunno. I have no justifications so I added another little mini lemon at the end there. A little plus a little equals a lot, right?

We're nearing the ending. I hope it'll make ya'll happy. Keep in mind the choices from Alfred F. Jones superhero for another story spin off. (First story from Ludwig's point of view or from Feliks's point of view)

The more you review, the worse I will feel for not writing. So review lots and the updates might come quicker.


	7. Do Svedanya Mio Bambino

I'm reading a book about psychopaths and how to identify them and traits that define psychopathy and stuff like that.

It's fueling my Ivan right now.

AND…. Things might be a little dark in this chapter. It's a little… Bittersweet once you get past the… well… I'll let you guys just read.

* * *

><p>"This is strange… Usually he's a maniac about his phone…" Arthur flipped through his inbox again.<p>

Are you working late tonight? – Sent 6:26

Hello? Alfred? – Sent 6:35

Where are you? – Sent 6:54

Alfreed? – Sent 7:16

Arthur glared at his phone. He had called, too. So many times had Alfred gotten on _his _case about answering his phone… And he was usually glued to it during the day. He even had a charger at work, so it wasn't like he wouldn't just charge it if it were dead. It didn't make any sense.

Where was Alfred?

* * *

><p>"S-Sir…" Eduard stared at his shoes as he addressed the larger man, "W-What is that noise?"<p>

BANG BANG BANG

Ivan looked up from the book he was reading and smiled remembering. "Oh, that is just my target. I figured that he could stay in there a while. He's really quite angry you know." He returned to the book.

BANGBANGBANGBANG

Eduard stared out the window. The sound of Alfred pounding on the inside of Ivan's trunk was penetrating the wall.

BANG BANGBANG

"H-How long has he been in there…?" Eduard asked himself. He had forgotten Ivan was in the room too.

Ivan looked at his watch and thought a moment, "Well, I went and got him right after he got off work at six-ish. So Maybe an hour and a half or so. I really like those old cars. My new car had a latch in it that let people get out of the trunk if they needed to. It was not a good thing." He returned to his book.

BANG BANG BANG

Eduard fled the room.

* * *

><p>"Well nothing tonight is making sense…" Arthur stared at the closed sign in the window. The diner was closing earlier because it was getting closer to winter time, so it wasn't too weird that it was closed early. But the light in the kitchen was still on. "Do they usually leave that light on?"<p>

Arthur felt the need to investigate; after all, Alfred was probably here. The door was surprisingly open, "Alfred," He called, "Are you still here?" He followed the light into the kitchen.

"Can you get a positive ID on the body?" Inspector Bielschmidt asked another officer.

"Feliks Łukasiewicz. He's Polish. Age 19. He works as a drag queen down town as a second job." The officer handed him a pink leather wallet, "Here's all his identification." Ludwig nodded and walked out of the kitchen to the booth where Arthur was sitting. "Hallo, Mr. Kirkland. Are you doing alright?" He asked.

Arthur nodded wordlessly.

"Is it alright if I ask you a few questions?" He asked.

Arthur met his eyes, "Ask away," He replied. His voice was terribly empty.

"Vhen did you come across the body, exactly?"

"Just before I called you. Around seven twenty." Arthur replied. He started chewing on his fingernails.

The inspector hummed in response, "And you did nothing to ze body?"

"No, goddammit! Why would I?" He kept chewing. He wanted to pace, but he had to answer questions.

"Zis is just protocol." He placed a firm hand on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur shrugged it off, "Mr. Kirkland, did you know zis man?"

Arthur nodded, "He works with my," He paused. He didn't really know what to call Alfred. Well, not officially, "He works with my friend." He concluded. "Alfred, my friend, Alfred, he hadn't come home yet and he wasn't picking up his phone." There were so many thoughts going through Arthur's head, "I just—I just wanted to see if he was still here. Oh god…"

"Vhat is Alfred's last name?"

"Jones. It's Alfred F. Jones." Arthur froze, "You don't—you aren't suspecting him are you... He won't hurt anyone he only helps people, he's a fucking hero!"

"Sir, I am only doing my job. I understand zat he is a friend of yours, I just need to collect data." He cleared his throat, "You said that Alfred hadn't come home… It vas out of the ordinary zat he hadn't returned?"

Arthur stared at the table, "We had made plans and I didn't know why he wasn't answering my calls or anything. So, yeah, it was weird." He felt so exhausted. He was not prepared for this. Not even a month earlier, he was sure he could kill The Hero… But seeing a body… Seeing a body in the condition that Feliks was in… He had never realized just how cruel that act could be. "Am I finished, inspector?" He asked.

"Yes, yes, you may go." Arthur stood and walked out of the diner. He didn't think he'd ever see that many flashing lights outside of a cop show.

* * *

><p>"<em>You ever go to the drag show down town?" Alfred flipped through a magazine. He had been acting a little absent the whole night. <em>

_Arthur cocked an eyebrow, "You're joking, right?" _

_Alfred shrugged, "The guy I work with, Feliks, with a 'k' too, isn't that cool? Anyway, he works there." He sighed, "I dunno. He's so nice… Dating the other guy I work with, Toris. He's from Russia or something…" _

"_What are you going on about?" Arthur glared at Alfred. _

"_Well… Feliks was talking about quitting. Traveling again. I dunno, if he quits then Toris'll quit, they're dating and all. And I dunno. Guess I'm just feeling a bit down." He rolled onto his back. "They're really nice and stuff."_

* * *

><p>"Uh...uh… h-hello?" Toris's eyes widened, "Oh my god, are you alright, sir?"<p>

"You're Toris, right?" He nodded, "I saw something tonight…" He paused, "It's about Feliks." Toris stared, confused. "He's… Toris he was murdered."

"What?"

Arthur shook his head, "Alfred is missing and Feliks is dead. I don't- Toris… I'm so sorry."

Toris stared at Arthur, expressionless. No denial, no questions. He just stared. "I have to go now…" He said and turned back into the house.

* * *

><p>Things were going quite horribly for Lovino. Every elbow brush, every meeting of eyes, every little thing that was so utterly normal was suddenly embarrassing. Horribly so. He had little bits of the dream engrained into his memory. His subconscious's idea of how soft Antonio's mouth. The pleasure and ecstasy of sex itself and then the knowledge that it was Antonio doing it. The ache and desire to feel it for real.<p>

"Mi amore, you are acting strange. Are you feeling alright?" Antonio asked Lovino.

To that, the Italian flushed and averted his eyes. "I'm fine. Just fine." He said quickly.

"Are you sure? You seem… anxious…" Antonio returned. He sat on the couch next to Lovino who scooted farther away.

"I am fine, stupid. I am not…" His voice faded. He glared at Antonio but only regretted it. He stared into Antonio's eyes. Deep green. Mesmerizing. His lips looked warm, inviting, soft.

Antonio chuckled, "Not, what?" He asked, scooting closer.

Lovino licked his lips and turned away, growing incredibly red, "Not anxious!" He replied. He really hadn't wanted something this much ever…

"Did something happen last night? My love, I am at a loss. Please, is there anything I can do?" I leaned in and when Lovino turned to glare once more, their noses were touching.

"No. I don't need your help." Lovino stood and started to leave huffily.

Antonio sighed, "Mi dios will you ever realize just how much that kills me." Antonio whispered.

Lovino, who was standing in the doorway felt a sudden pang of empathy- which, mind you, was a feeling that Lovino very rarely, if ever, he felt. And the worst part was that he was at war with himself whether he should give up the tough guy act and just go for it or let it pass.

"I had a dream last night…" Lovino said. Loud. He tried to sound confident. Antonio shot up, embarrassed that Lovino overheard his thought. AND he was curious, "You were in it and…" Lovino swallowed hard and his face felt like it was burning, "And some things happened. And now I don't know how to act around you!" He stomped over to the couch. He figured anger was better than surrender, "I'm nervous and angry and always on edge and it's been so long since you started whatever the hell you are doing to me and I don't know how to react anymore because after that dream I don't want to say no!"

He quickly covered his mouth. He really didn't know what he just said. Antonio stared on, shocked.

"I-I…" He swallowed hard, "Y-You're just such a damn bastard and…" He felt like crying. Why whywhy did he do that!

Antonio stood and placed a hand on Lovino's warm cheek. "Mi amore, is it alright if I… kiss you?" Lovino's eyes widened and he looked at the ground. And didn't reply, "If you don't say anything…" Antonio tilted Lovino's face towards his own. He could feel the blush radiating off of the smaller boy, "I'm just going to do it…" His voice was a whisper.

Lovino closed his eyes and savored the moment. It was nothing compared to his dream. It was so much more. He knew that he was going to remember this the next morning. He knew that Antonio was real this time.

"I hate you so much," Lovino whispered and pressed into another kiss. Deeper this time. "Mio Dio I hate you." He kept repeating. But he didn't want to stop. Ever. Finally, the damn bastard did something right.

* * *

><p>Arthur knew that he wasn't going to get a reply, but he kept texting and calling Alfred. Panicked was an understatement. For all he knew, the cops could be after him this minute. All local news channels were buzzing. The story was already huge.<p>

"_There is no sight of Buttsecks City's hero, and right now it seems we are in most need of him. Word is that the notorious Russian hitman, Ivan Braginski was seen earlier today at a local diner. Later the body of one of the waiters and alleged drag queen, Feliks Łukasiewicz, was discovered. This is the first murder in Buttsecks city for almost three years. It also seems that one Alfred Jones has gone missing. Fingerprints belonging to Alfred Jones Feliks Łukasiewicz, and Ivan Braginski were all discovered at the crime scene. Police say that both Ivan Braginski and Alfred Jones are prime suspects of Feliks Łukasiewicz's murder. Here's Benedict Lucas at the scene of the crime."_

"_I have been downtown for over an hour now and there is still no word from Inspector Bielschmidt. It seems they are not releasing any information on the investigation so far. Oh here he comes! Inspector Bielschmidt! Inspector Bielschmidt! Please, tell us, have any conclusions been made? Was Ivan Braginski the murderer?"_

"_That information has been made classified and vill not be released to the public at this time. "_

Arthur wanted to cry. Alfred could be another victim. Alfred could be dead. He couldn't kill anyone. No, no, no he couldn't let his mind wander like that. Alfred was going to be fine… Just fine…

"Fuck! No he's not going to be bloody fine!" Arthur threw himself into his bedroom. He needed to find Alfred.

* * *

><p>"Why do you hate that one guy so much?" Lovino asked, draping his legs over Antonio's lap.<p>

Antonio hummed a question in response.

"That guy… The Hero or whatever, why do you hate him?" He was growing impatient already. Antonio was such a dumbass.

Antonio smiled, "Because he caused my old restaurant to go under." Lovino's eyes widened and he gawked, "When he left, my other employees decided that waiting tables was beneath them and they left too. Then all that was left was me. I had to sell it." Antonio sighed, his cheerful demeanor quickly demising, "But it wasn't just that. When I saw him again and tried to say hello… He acted like he didn't know me. I felt quite hurt…"

Romano wanted to comfort Antonio, but never in a million years would Romano ever comfort Antonio. "So you… kill him?"

Antonio laughed, "Well at first it was more innocent. I wanted to mess him up. I found out he was The Hero and saw how flustered he was with that silly Jack Union… So I thought what if a band of villains came into town? What if a band of villains messed him up? But the longer that idea stayed in my mind… the more I hated him."

Suddenly, Antonio leapt from the couch and started grabbing at his hair, "Romano I fucked this up Ohmygod I fucked things up shitshitshitshit!"

"Whatwhat?" Romano stood because he felt less powerful and didn't like that.

Antonio bit his lip, "Romano. I need your help…"

"What did you do, bastard?"

"I kind of hired someone… I hired someone to kill Alfred by accident… Oh shitshit what's the date?"

"Twenty-ninth."

Antonio was running to the closet where he kept his stupid costume. "Romano, we don't have much time, please tell me you'll help me save Alfred?" He held up a pair of bright red shorthorts.

"No. No. NononoNO!"

* * *

><p>"Oh, Toris, what are you doing here?" Ivan stared, confused. Toris knew when not to interrupt Ivan, and just then was the most important time not to.<p>

Alfred was sitting propped up on the ground, his arms bound behind him and duct tape was wrapped all around his face. There were large gashes and bruises on his face and chest. Blood soaked through his shirt. His glasses were in pieces near Ivan's feet. In Ivan's hand was a large pipe with a faucet at one end. It was dripping with Alfred's blood, but that end was perpetually stained darker.

Toris's vision was blurry. He was furious. "You killed Feliks." He said simply. Alfred attempted to look up, but his exhaustion and new wounds had him on the brink of unconsciousness.

"Who is Feliks?" Ivan asked, completely sincere.

Toris stepped forward, "I can believe that you killed Feliks."

"Toris I believe it is time for you to go. I am getting very angry with you."

From behind his back, Toris pulled a small black object. He aimed it at Ivan.

"When in the world did you get a gun?" He asked. "Why do you have a gun?"

"Because this world has scumbags like you in it." Toris replied, angry tears falling from his eyes and clinging to his eyelashes. His hands were shaking and his aim was worsening.

Ivan stepped forward, growing angrier and angrier. "Put the gun away, Toris." He commanded. "I don't want to have to do something to you."

"Like you had to do to Feliks! Or what you're going to do to Alfred?" Tears were streaming down his face now, his vision completely clouded.

Suddenly. Ivan charged forward and grabbed Toris around the neck. His large hand seemed to envelop Toris's whole throat. "That was a stupid thing to say, Toris. I am so sorry Toris. I love you, Toris. I really, really do. I love you a whole lot."Ivan threw Toris into the room towards the back wall. Toris stumbled back and smacked his head against the concrete. Ivan gripped his faucet tighter.

Toris brought the gun up again and just before Ivan knocked it from his hand, he squeezed the trigger.

The large man caught the bullet in his chest and stood for a moment, his eyes wide and pale skin growing lighter and lighter. The sound of the gun exploded around the room, causing Alfred to jump. Feeling empty, Toris dropped the weapon and stumbled to Alfred. "I'm so sorry, Alfred. I'm so so sorry." He pulled the duct tape from Alfred's mouth. It was wet with blood and losing its adhesion. After freeing Alfred Toris rested his head on Alfred's uninjured shoulder and sobbed.

Ivan gripped his stomach and felt the hot liquid and the wetness on his coat. He fell to his knees. He didn't feel pain. "Do svedanya((Goodbye)) Toris." He said. Toris turned, terrified, a wild look in his eyes. Ivan smiled and collapsed onto the ground.

Suddenly the front door was kicked open and a man ran into the building clad in red, white and blue. "Alfred!" He cried.

"He's in here…" Toris called back faintly.

Jack Union followed the sound and found himself staring in a bloody, room with no furniture or anything. There was Ivan laying with blood pouring out from under him and Alfred with wounds covering his face and body. Then Toris, a small heap of a man fallen, broken, on Alfred's shoulder. He stood and stumbled out of the room, knowing that they would want to be alone and wanting to be alone more than anything.

He paused to stare at the body of the massive Russian. This was the second body he had seen in less than 24 hours. For some reason, he felt less remorse this time. He saw that face on the news. The violet eyes, now unseeing, the large hooked nose… He was the man that killed Feliks and he was the man that kidnapped Alfred.

- Alfred!

Jack Union ran to Alfred and gently cradled his face in his hands, "You git, what did you to get yourself in this situation?" He asked.

Alfred sort of coughed and sort of chuckled, "How could you be angry at me right now?" He asked.

"Don't smile right now. You look terrible." He felt tears drip down his cheek under his mask.

"Why are you dressed like that?" He asked.

"Because you needed a bloody hero, you wanker." He laid a gentle kiss on Alfred's lips. They were chapped and tasted like blood. "I did it for you, you idiot."

"Porca puttana! ((Holy shit!))" The two men turned to see a small man with a feminine build wearing bright red shortshorts, a tight, red shirt and a little green cap that looked something remenicent of leaves. "Ohmyfuckinggod!"

A very gay looking matador appeared in the doorway and froze. "Waitaminute... Jack Union? What the hell, man, I thought you were done being—Ugh whatever whatever I'm not here to bother you about that. Did you kill this guy? Is he the hitman?"

"Who the hell are you?" Jack Union said, standing.

"My Little Tomato, I think the help has already, uh, happened." Antonio turned to the red-clad Italian who was fuming. "We really should be on our way, then." He turned and slipped out of the building again. Lovino, extremely pissed off followed after.

* * *

><p>I AM SO SORRY ABOUT THIS CHAPTER.<p>

I never meant for any chapter to be serious, but the thought of Toris pulling a Neville Longbottom and slaying the serpent that is Ivan Braginski...

AND IT'S ALSO HEARTS'S FAULT! SHE TOLD ME TO!

I have to go now. Sleep and all that.

The next chapter is the conclusion BUT NOT THE END.

Keep in mind:

Part1&2 in the point of view of Feliks

Part 1&2 in the point of view of Ludwig


	8. Questions

I AM SO SORRY! The play has been absolutely INSANE! So I'm updating before this chapter is really finished, just so you know that I still love you. Things will be absolutely mad for two more weeks and I am SO SORRY.

I only got three reviews for last chapter… :[ where are all the reviewers, yo?

* * *

><p>Some time later…<p>

_The trial of Toris Laurinaitis came to a close today. The twenty-year-old was let off with no charges when proven innocent with the claim of self defense. The only witness of the event was Alfred Jones, another victim and only survivor of Ivan Braginski…_

"God… I'm sure glad that's over." Alfred sucked on the straw in his milkshake, "Geeze, why do they bother with a straw anyway? It's not like they even work for milkshakes!" He set it down again and rubbed his bandaged side. "How long?" He leaned his head over to Arthur.

The Englishman chuckled, "Two more weeks." He replied. Alfred groaned. "I'm still curious about who it was that wanted you dead." Arthur took a serious tone. Something seemed familiar about those brief encounters with that matador… Why was he there? Why didn't he stick around? Was that the weird Spanish guy that attacked Alfred with the French guy and German in black?

"I dunno. I can't even imagine the people that want me dead. I mean, you wanted me dead, ya'know." Alfred laughed. He really wasn't in the mood to talk about something so serious.

"Don't you understand? Ivan Braginski is _huge! _He's the most wanted hitman in all of Europe! And he was after _you! _Doesn't that scare you at all? Someone goes to the lengths of hiring _Ivan Braginski. _

Alfred sighed, he just got back from the hospital, he didn't want to deal with more lectures, questions, tests, or anything—especially from Arthur. "Listen, can we let it wait until morning?"

Arthur stood, "Alright, then. I'm going to go home." Alfred looked at Arthur as if pleading Arthur to stay, "No, I have work in the morning." Arthur turned he sounded bitter, "Tomorrow." He stared towards the door, but Alfred caught his arm. "Alfred I have to get—"

"Move in with me."

There was a pause. "Why are you asking me this now?" The slight acidic tone still lingered in his voice.

"Why not?" Alfred smiled, "Arthur, I love you and I don't like being alone in here at night. Ever. Please, Arthur."

"I'm leaving now. We'll talk about this later."

* * *

><p>"Yes… Well that's what I told him… Gilbert, would you trust your best friend or—"<p>

"Fuck me." Lovino sounded pissed.

Antonio sighed, " Lovi, could you not say things like that when I'm on the—" He turned and saw that Lovino was wearing nothing but a large button up shirt.

"Fuck me, you bastard." He said again.

"Gil, I have to go." He hung up the phone even though a pissed off Gilbert was on the other line and climbed over to Lovino. He cradled Lovino's face in his palm and leaned down to kiss him. "My, my… "He whispered, "You are growing up so fast."

Lovino sighed and touched Antonio's hand, "I can't get you out of my head… It's really annoying." The mood was shattered. He kissed Antonio quickly. "Don't disappoint me, bastard." The mood returned.

Antonio chuckled and kissed Lovino. It really was perfect. They were like puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together… Well, other than the fact that both of them had that funky part that stuck out. But, whatever, they really didn't care.

The kisses led them to the stairs where they stopped.

"You need to move your shit upstairs." Lovino panted.

Antonio hummed, "Later." He replied. He scooped Lovi into his arms and began carrying him up the stairs, all the while Lovino was thrashing about.

"PUT ME DOWN YOU IDIOT! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!" Antonio kissed his cheek.

"Just a moment, my love."

Antonio carried the squirming Italian to his bedroom and gently laid him on the bed. Lovino was flustered and a bit out of breath. He looked helpless. Antonio smirked as he unbuttoned his shirt.

Lovino couldn't deny his thoughts… Antonio looked like a ((Beach goddess)) predator.

"Are you sure about this, my love?" Antonio asked, letting the fabric fall off his shoulders.

Lovino swallowed hard, "Yes." He said. His eyes trailed down Antonio's chest to his hands that were unbuckling his belt. Antonio chuckled and climbed onto the bed, leaning over Lovino's small frame.

The Italian felt much smaller than before. Miniscule in comparison to the man hanging over him. But he felt safe. He liked it. Lovino reached up and placed his hands at Antonio's collarbone. His skin was warm.

"Amore, look at me," Antonio whispered. Lovino's eyes trailed from his own hands up—lingering on his lips—and up to make eye contact. "I love you." He said. Lovino blushed, but for the first time didn't deny it. He didn't push away. Antonio smiled and gently placed a hand on Lovino's cheek. "May I-?" He began.

"Don't ask." Lovino stared at Antonio's lips again, "Just do it." Suddenly, Lovino was enveloped by long arms and a hot mouth was pressed against his own. Lovino wrapped his arms around Antonio's neck and let himself forget about his ego. He needed this. He wanted Antonio out… No… He wanted Antonio. Period. And he could feel the want… all the way in his crotch.

Antonio slowly dragged his hand down Lovino's chest, the fabric of the shirt ruffling about. With one hand, the Spaniard began clumsily unbuttoning Lovino's shirt. Antonio slowly moved his kissed to Lovi's neck, intending to leave little bite marks. Lovi would have protested, but it felt good, so the insult stuck in his throat.

Breathy moans escaped Lovino's mouth as Antonio's mouth made its way down his chest. The Spaniard paused before reaching Lovino's crotch. "Keep going, bastard." He commanded. Antonio chuckled and placed a hand on the inside of Lovino's thigh, earning a quick buck from his hip.

The Italian gasped loudly as Antonio suddenly took hold of his cock and started running his fingers up and down the length. Lovino started arching his back and panting, the pleasure building up when suddenly Antonio stopped. Lovino audibly protested. In a moment, Lovino's now angry eyes met Antonio's calm and dominant ones. Without speaking, Antonio told Lovino to wait as he slid from the bed and reached into his nightstand's drawer.

Lovino was panting, staring at Antonio's hands as they pulled out a small container and condom from the drawer. He returned to the bed and quickly, pulled off his pants and kissed Lovi. "I understand this is your first time with a man." He said as he put on the condom. Lovino grew angry, "Amore, I will warn you now, it might hurt at first."

Growing impatient with Antonio's constant interruptions, Lovino grabbed the lube from Antonio and uncapped it. Meeting Antonio's confused eyes for a moment, and squirting out a fair amount all over his ass, twitching at the cool temperature, "Don't tell me about that stuff, bastard," Lovino said capping the bottle and tossing it aside, "Just man up and do it" He demanded.

Antonio, shocked that his little tomato was acting so brashly paused for a moment, the smile, "Si," He said and placed his hands on Lovino's hips. He pulled the smaller man up and onto his lap, "Okay, I'm going to start now," Antonio warned, and pressed a finger into Lovino.

The small Italian seized up a moment and relaxed, letting Antonio prepare him. Antonio's finger slid in and out easily and soon Lovino was rocking his hips to gain more friction. Seeing that Lovino was fine with the first finger, Antonio pushed in a second, "Tch!" Lovino grasped at Antonio's back and relaxed again. As Antonio stretched Lovino, he noticed the younger male starting to quietly moan. Soon, Antonio could fit three fingers into Lovino.

"Now," Lovino panted, rocking onto Antonio's fingers, "Do it now."

Antonio pulled Lovino closer and kissed him deeply; he positioned himself and let Lovino slowly fall down onto his penis. Lovino bit his lip to ignore the pain; he was going to bear through it. He needed this. Antonio laid Lovino onto his back and leaned over the small man. Antonio slowly pulled out slightly and pushed back in. "M-merde…" Lovino mumbled.

"Give it time, love. It will get better." He thrust again, this time earning a pleasured cry from Lovino.

"There." Lovino gasped, "There."

Antonio nodded and aimed his next thrust at Lovino's prostate, hitting it head on and sending Lovino into a fit of pleasure. Lovino stiffened and his breath caught in his throat, squeezing Antonio's manhood and earning a throaty groan. Again. Again. Lovino was becoming dangerously close to release and Antonio was not far behind.

"Fuck! Mnnn…" Antonio's pace quickened and got sloppier. He was losing focus. " MNN!" Lovino shuddered and spilled all over Antonio's and his own chest. The sudden tightening and relaxation pushed Antonio over as well and he pulled out before cumming into the condom.

Antonio collapsed next to Lovino. "Well…" He whispered, "Am I out of your head yet?"

Lovino glared, "Shut up, bastard."

* * *

><p>I don't know when I'll update again… I AM SO SORRY! I MISS YOU ALL SO MUCH!<p>

The play will be over on the 13th, so speedy updates will be back then. Next chapter is the final chapter so start thinking about what you want for the next continuation (Am I abusing this continuing silliness…? NAH!)

Story 1&2 from Felik's point of view

Story 1&2 (as well as a bit of previous stuff) from Ludwig's point of view

Another sequel that has no ideas born yet. At all.

Annnd if I get past 70 reviews, I'll make some comic extras and post links…

See ya'll for the conclusion!


	9. Good night

GUH

Writer's block. Hard. DX

My mom gave me this idea...

* * *

><p>Alfred entered his diner alone. It was strange seeing new workers and happy customers when he knew that Feliks was killed there. Feliks wasn't going to work there ever again. Alfred sat down at an empty booth. He felt uncomfortable….<p>

He flipped through the songs in the tabletop jukebox. _That's new _he noted. There were a bunch of songs he really didn't like or know or care about. He settled with 'Don't Stop Believing,' and began leafing through the menu, even though he knew it by heart

_Just a small town girl_

The song had barely started when Arthur walked into the diner and spotted Alfred from across the room. He smiled and walked over.

_Living in a lonely world_

"Hey."

"Hey."

He sat across from Alfred and picked a menu for himself.

_She took a midnight train going anywhere_

"Did you do any investigating of your own?" Arthur asked his eyes falling over the menu, but not reading a thing.

Alfred shook his head. "Nah, I'm gonna let the police handle it."

"I did some." Arthur said. He didn't make eye contact with Alfred.

The bell of the door dinged another man walked in. Alfred recognized him… slightly. His eyes were green- almost as green as Arthur's- and he was dressed plainly. Alfred remembered working at a Spanish restaurant once… But another thing was becoming clear… Alfred's old boss…. He was that goddamn nuisance of a Spaniard. He seemed so normal without his ridiculous bedazzled matador costume on. He was at the scene when Toris killed Ivan…

_Don't stop believin'_

Arthur waved him over and he sat in the booth next to Arthur. No greetings, no explanations. Awkward silence.

_Hold on to that feelin'_

"Why'd you bring _him_ here?" Alfred gestured to the unmasked lusty bastard.

"He has some things to say."

_Streetlights people ahhhhhhhhh_

Alfred looked expectantly at Antonio. Former boss. Present enemy. Apparent attempted killer.

"Mistakes were made, Alfred. I'm going to—" The bell dinged again. Gilbert and Francis walked in. They didn't notice Antonio at the table. "I'm going to turn myself in to the police for hiring Ivan to kill you, Alfred."

Alfred remained quiet.

The bell dinged again and a small Italian man came in a little rushed.

_Don't stop—_

* * *

><p>Anyone see the end of the Sopranos?<p>

Actually... Mine is a bit more conclusive, if I do say so myself. :/

You all must hate me now.

I AM SO SORRY.

BUT you have a chance to keep the story going! (Kind of)

You can hear the story from Feliks's point of view or Ludwig's point of view.

So either prostitution and drag or military and love.

Oh and death. Both involve death.


End file.
